Long Eastbound Poems
Long Eastbound Poems. Below are the most popular long Eastbound by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eastbound poems by poem length and keyword.
I've opened up my Venetion blinds with a heart that throbs
to get a better view of the February scenery;
snow is falling the day before my birthday...
it's heavy, it's lovely and it quickly sticks on the berry shrubs!
The eastbound wind spreads it on the barren lawns
and as trees sway back and forth, it howls;
come down from the invisible, thick clouds
beautiful snowflakes, adorn these dreams
whether tomorrow will bring smiles or frowns...
whatever the outcome, fate arrays what he deems!
The parakeet tries to escape between the narrow rods
of the cage, he's unaware of the danger, it's not spring;
his behavior seem imprudent, he also likes to see
and feel everything I feel on this quite snowy morning!
Kids are in school, streets are frequented by thugs
who throw snowballs at each other and explode in glee!
Another year, as the last, will start on the sixth of this February,
woe to this Water Bearer who can only hope, not dream!
Dreams are only for the young hearts starting their journey,
someone like me who has dreamt them all, has no need for them;
fall snowflakes, although the dreaded robins have now fled...
there is no happier heart than mine dismissing all that is sad!
I frowned when I found my new pup was gone,
so, I searched all around for my little foxhound,
listening with profound intensity until dawn.
I was gowned but changed; headed to the pound,
in the eastbound lane that would take me there.
I yelled to expound, '"There's no time to spare!"
Traffic moved slowly, so I found a way round it,
now westbound, my nerves were coiled and wound.
I stopped at a campground and called his name, "Jit!"
I heard no barks or mewling. Not a single sound.
Pup, where are you? Hiding behind a hill or mound?
Did you dig holes in the ground, earthy and browned?
Pup, if you're lost, in salty tears I would be drowned.
Fears abound that I would never see his face again.
My spirits low, not much further can they be downed.
I heard, "Woof!" and my heart beat in quick refrain...
Quickly, Jit ran to me, faster than a racing greyhound!
All this time he'd been asleep in my car's backseat.
My pup continues to astound me with kisses so sweet.
He follows me everywhere, hoping for a doggie treat!
~ April 26, 2022 ~
Nursery Rhyme 3 Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
‘You are the tea leaves I am the tea pot I the tiny snowflake and you the snow’ - Ode to Mum by Maria Williams
I dare you approach me with the notion that 'it's all about you'.
Have you no understanding that there's 'no you without Me'?
Were we not taught early on that there is no 'me without you'?
You are a most unfortunate human being and indeed most selfish.
It is such notion as yours that has the world in a dooms day spin.
Wars worldwide and localized have been fought and presently fighting
because of self and greed with little consideration that we need unity.
I shall remind you of the great and the mighty Mississippi River.
It is only thus because of the many tributaries that flow into it.
It is fed by the great westward flowing Ohio River and graciously
accepts norishment from the eastbound Missiouri River. If such unity were not so, it's flow would be weak and most feable.
Why, the rich fertile delta soil along it's river bank would not be near as coveted. Why, imagine what it's long and whinding river flow to
the Mexico Gulf would be. Let none of us think 'we're all that and a bag of chips' because We Desparately Need One Another.
022820PoSpCtest, Poetic lines from a Poetic Soup Poet, Silent One
Line chosen from, Ode To Mum by Maria Williams. 2P
The whistles screamed that cold dark night
Winter, 1903
At least fourteen would perish
Way out on the prairie
The westbound Sunset Limited,
Eastbound Crescent City Express,
Met head on in a collision
Lives lost in great distress
Horror met the rescuers
Two twisted trains in flames
Of fourteen known to've perished
Of two, were not found names
A hundred plus years later,
On the date and pre-dawn hour
We'd come to the memorial plaque
With Teddy bears and flowers
Holding our thoughts in silence
We walked along the trail
Remembering the violence;
Their deaths upon that rail
Precisely 2:50 A.M
What was it? We don't know
But in our silent vigil
We heard a whistle blow
Sounding clear across the night
Once long, Three short, Last long
But there was nothing in our sight
Praying - we moved along
Our memorial under silver stars
For those perished on the track
Ended as we got in cars
With one last look-
a century back
We'll never solve the mystery
But do we need to know?
Commemorating history
We heard a whistle blow
Listen……hear
the distant hum
of early morning traffic
on Westgate Bridge,
a chorus of birdsong
and that eastbound
aeroplane flying high
overhead en route
to Wellington
or Christchurch.
The clink of rigging
on those moored boats
riding a passing wake,
nearby footsteps,
the tap of a stick,
the jingle of a spoon
inside an empty
coffee cup.
Voices spilling out
of an open window,
someone blowing
their nose,
the scrape
of a soapy squeegee
across a cafe door
and on the edge
of hearing,
the deep throb
of a ferry casting off
from the end
of Williamstown pier.
How wonderful it is
for all these sounds
to have found
a way to my ear.
"I have been a stranger in a strange land." Bible, Exodus 2:22
[X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X]
Hungry eyes seek substance, food matters naught--
sees the unpleasantness that drains the eyes.
The sea, Heaven on earth, explicit thought
of days that pleased youth oft courses--denies
to the stare of his feet, wherefore and whys,
slowly his head lifts, upright, turned around,
raises palms to rub eyes, lowers ... astound,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
Rudders turn stern, sails fixed, helms steer abound,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
[X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X]
The Creator last passed, blessed the Isles, ought
for the righteous--who first cheered led to cries--
so say I, the Lord of host ..., naught bethought,
lead to temptations; scripturally wise,
threshold darkness crossed, newcomers, eyed prize,
an ancient people's customs, rites, all-round,
diverse power creates oneness, propound,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
Afeared spread out and a kingdom compound,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
[X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X]
An influx flourish, commitments ill-fraught,
church breeds greed, false prophets, true profits--guise,
knowledge sought by natives plots short-changed taught,
forced natives, dethroned queen, kingdom, likewise,
unlearned natives conquered by day, by lies,
time passed, those with knowledge escapes eastbound,
some accomplished, tiresome measures, homebound,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
Though zilch, non-native highest seat -- renowned,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
[X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X] * X[X]X * [X]X[X]
Grant, native Hawaiians were first who found,
last Hawaiian; Isles, their burial mound,
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
Moses, Exodus estranged you -- your crowned,
last -- prince by name, adoptee, choose uncrowned.
at last, life found its true purpose; a home.
bloated girth deceased,
not surprisingly packed orotund
size appetite conveniently weighted
gravity helped fell
giant gourmand chowhound
demise linkedin automatically tightened
neckerchief doubled as noose clothbound
neck, the luckless bard dead -
poets society he didst cofound
oh captain my captain compound
suffering no more, departure doth not confound
those familiar with ravages of pennilessness
although glum spouse doggone bewailing
analogous to melancholy coonhound
inescapable woebegone travails decompound
constituted complex challenges
doom also depressed petsmart deerhound
four footed friend invisibly yoked, where
writings witnessed scrivener
daily voluntarily deskbound
unsuccessful chicken scratch disbound
dispersed newpages feted
German, Oriental and American cockroaches
courtesy proffered grubhub,
wet precipitation courted mildew,
and mold beheld fancy feast dumbfound
ding maggoty parasites riddled
treasure trove discovered earthbound
corpse hungry flocking carrion
heralded all points of compass - eastbound
most popular, hence route crow did house,
cutthroat beasty boys
aided, devoured, gorged...,
among which canine corps elkhound
leader of pack tacking course enwound
roundabout path barking commands
ruff lee didst expound
slinked sly as foxes -
shushed kindred brothers
up ahead wolf gang,
thence took faux minute paws
aware fresh meat fairground
survival of fittest edict woof lee decreed,
when sudden thick terrain fogbound
not impossible mission, though
totally opaque foreground
keen sense of smell and hearing aid found
dead reckoning, i.e. ground zero.
for Jim*
Equinox is past, yet the wind
blows cold. From a veranda swing
he watches pansies, daisies, snapdragons
color-up his garden; Smoky Mountains
so far distant he cannot see. He hears
the eastbound train echo warning. Rain
tomorrow.
*My late husband was born in the hills of North Carolina. Among his people was a belief that when the air was so calm and clear that the sound of the whistle of a train was amplified and echoed loudly, the sound was a harbinger of rain.
In 1970 Jim moved from North Carolina to SW Washington state. He lived there until his death in 2011, but once in a while he became homesick for his home in the Great Smoky Mountains.
We were bused from Sacramento to Reno.
We rode a train from Reno to Salt Lake City.
We then bused from SLC to Kansas City.
Somewhere along the I-80 route,
we crossed the Great Divide.
At the time, the Kansas City Chiefs was not
on my list of favorite things to do or places
to go before my demise, but they soon
became a member of my bucket list.
The memory of the trip itself and
all the joy it brought my friend
and I was not the real treasure.
The real treasure hidden in a field;
the real pearl of great pride was
the six days and six nights spent
with a friend. Sure, we both
greatly enjoyed the entire
theme of 'Football', but the
real deal was the chats and
the conversations of the
heart about life and family;
about childhood and Christ.
It was the brief time spent in
a conversation with two other
guys as we passed through
Winnemucca, Nev. on
the Eastbound train.
We stayed two nights in KC.
In KC we went to a KC Chiefs game.
We also met the KC cheerleaders.
We rented a car and headed
for home on Monday afternoon.
The long drive back from KC to
Sac was great and not a chore.
The KCC has been my friend's
favorite team since childhood,
and I can imagine how it made
him feel to see a live home game.
By the way, the home team lost to
a non-contending team. However,
my friend's team won the Super Bowl
that same year.
092924PS
We boarded a bus on the West coast and rode east to the next state. We then boarded an Eastbound train and travelled to the next state. There, we waited overnight and boarded another bus the next day, Continuing East for our final destination into one of the plains states. I could feel an air of inspiration about this venture; So I wrote a poem.
We spent two days there, and after being entertained by culture, museums, a major sports venue(NFL), and great food, we rented a car and headed back West for home. We encountered no inclement weather conditions, but very inviting sun and scenic pleasantries. I believed this to be a memorable and a once in a lifetime experience. I tell you, there was something magical about this whole affair; So I wrote this poem.
These were memorable moments and treasured conversations as I crossed The Great Divide on Interstate 80 with my friend. I was able to assist him in accomplishing a milestone in his life. I found pure pleasure and fulfillment as the two of us motored nearly halfway across the country; so I wrote this poem. I tell you, every ounce of my being wanted to capture and harness a most priceless memory for my friend; and for me, this short narrative that I will treasure for a lifetime.
100720PSCtest, ....So I Wrote A Poem, John Lawless